


Saturnine Sorrow

by AnnaLopes03



Category: Dramione - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depressed Draco Malfoy, F/M, Forbidden Love, Heartache, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Triangles, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-22 17:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30042456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaLopes03/pseuds/AnnaLopes03
Summary: Hermione Granger had stolen Draco Malfoy's soul as they lived in harmony. The codependency that once strung them together had ripped their perfect life apart as the girl that had slithered her way into Draco's damaged self withdrew, causing him immense heartbreak. He had to see the love of his life fall for another and his world crumbled to dust, leading to the destruction of a black heart once loved.(A one-shot story concerning the tales of dying from a broken heart)~Dramione~
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Saturnine Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains some graphic descriptions at the end as well as a character death.
> 
> My friend and I decided to write a depressing Harry Potter one-shot based on a randomized song from our playlists and mine landed on "I Hate That You're Happy" by Tiny Little Houses.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this short story, it took me about three days to write :)

His stomach felt as though it were being ripped to shreds, continually packed with an unbearable weight, causing it to tear through itself and slaughter every fragment alongside the insufferable tug of distress, hurling him down into the depths of despair. If he’d known what his hurt would cause, he would not have been so inclined to inflict it on the one person who seemed determined in binding the two into an unbreakable bond. 

His love was stygian, forbidding, and cruel. 

The ambivalence swarmed like a fester of fleas as the intolerable creatures caught in his swollen trachea. The pain continued to rise as his cries rippled like a seething wave of desperation, creating a scanty reverberation as it bounced around the barren cage moulded by his own broken mind. 

Deeply woven sorrow poked at his vulnerable, exposed alabaster flesh, as ghostly and as fragile as the snow. 

The exhilaration once caused by the thinly framed girl with unkempt locks and an intoxicating smile churned as it grew as black as ink with the vibrations of desolate, solemn isolation. 

The night turned grim when his ashen eyes brushed upon a boy with flaming hair as he latched his constellation-covered arms around the girl with boisterous curls, her euphonious voice echoed throughout the delicately crafted halls. Just a few months ago, everything seemed to sing a different tune — one that Draco quite enjoyed as it rang in his ears with a sugary yet tempestuous resonance; each key satisfied him as it engulfed every piece, giving off an intense thrill. 

They sat in a bleak room, each ones’ hands busily scratching down their assigned tasks. Candles danced as a soft breeze encompassed the space, causing the light to flicker as the shadows bounced about. He saw her face brighten with a quizzical look as her doe-eyes beamed at the glistening plafond. Draco indulged in this ephemeral moment as though it were a drug, inhaling each meagre grain, bestowing an addictive buzz. The once starry ceiling whirled into a captivating nebula, its spirals were both bewitching and calm as it spun in balletic, leisure movements. 

He couldn’t prevent himself from envisioning Hermione’s features once they glowed as the blaze lapped at her skin — Draco incessantly tried to create a block between the emotions he had unknowingly given way to as he took a bite from the forbidden fruit, securing his fate. She seemed to open a foreign gate as the raging ocean once sealed away came rushing ontop of him, drowning him as he flailed around and gasped for air. 

Throughout sequenced moments of every day, he found himself tracing her route just to allow his eyes to absorb her delicious rays. At some point along the way, she was able to slither through the cracks of his battered heart as they grew into one another’s mystery — a puzzle they each seemed unable to solve. 

“Malfoy, you’re such an insufferable boy.”

“Malfoy, you’re gazing at me again.”

“Malfoy, you really are something else.”

The tides changed, pushing him in a new direction within a territory unknown. Their lips met at some unexplainable point in his journey and he swore she tasted like the heavens above. Her mane-like hair tickled the tip of his nose as her mouth curled against his, sending streams of ecstasy as it swam through his veins. He desired to pause this moment so it could never cease, but alas his wish was doomed from coming to fruition. 

They spent every waking day in each other’s arms, her pale skin sweeping against his as it sent a pleasant shock down his spine. He revelled in her flushed cheeks as her curls stuck to her dampened face like glue, their hips interlocking, allowing them to unite as one. Her wispy breaths against his flesh, her cries of satisfaction, even her awkward gestures after their stimulating venture, completed his broken half. Finally, their puzzles solved themselves as they each came to be the another’s missing piece. They clasped together in perfect harmony, both stubborn and snide yet compelling and obsessive. Their codependency grew and that’s when the perfect walls of their constructed home crumbled. 

He’d commence in sleepless nights as he attempted to purge his persisting thoughts — full of saturnine sorrow. A superfluity of turmoil erupted throughout his fiery essence. In the bed they previously both shared, the once intoxicating heat fizzled into the void of his solitary anguish. 

Their separation was his crime, his gravest mistake that was inevitably going to lead him to an untimely demise. 

The feelings she implored him to express had continued to lock themselves in an inescapable prison, and the impossibleness to unravel them had fortified into an impenetrable stronghold. 

How had a heart as pure and full of life as Hermione Granger’s loved his as it proceeded to entwine with spite and malice, the vines squeezing any good-natured part of himself, suffocating it until it had departed? 

He hadn’t held a firm enough grasp and she slipped away as fast as she had entered his dismal world. He hadn’t given her as much of himself as he should have as she seemed to cling to her newly formed love with all her might, tugging at the cords until she had assured herself that it was satisfyingly sound. 

The gleaming grin that had pulled across her face as her cheeks rounded, flushing into a rosy bud, had sent his chest ablaze. He despised the greed that had eaten him whole as the image of her delight expanded with a man who stood in his place, creating a foreign feeling of revulsion. A substance had hurled itself out of his throat as it splattered onto the cold concrete floor. His body quaked as he came to realize that he hadn’t seen her shed a single tear with the boy attached to her hip as though he were her faithful hound — she was happier with him and the truth shoved itself in his face as it convulsed into his hideous reality. 

He had slain the one thing that seemed to give him a sense of purpose for his future, one with the black mark of his past blunders imprinted on his arm as a permanent label of shame. The sockets of the skull’s eyes continuously bored into him as the snake hissed his sins. The slur’s scars raised on Hermione’s skin had led her to the perception of empathy and compassion as they compared the two in light discussion. 

There had always been hearsays about the possibility of dying from a shattered heart but it appeared to be a fairytale composed only for the hopeless romantics who deemed dying for affection was some heroic deed. It was the entire opposite in his mind, however, as dying from something as mortifying as heartbreak seemed feeble and weak — something he considered himself not to be. 

The blood ran cold as it rushed onto the lavatory floor, as scarlet and as thick as a Gryffindor’s heavy skull. He couldn’t help but sob as the stinging overwhelmed his senses, his tears merged with the ruby pool as it swirled, creating a fine mix of the two liquids. His heart flared as he knew he was going to pass due to a girl he once abhorred as her young, witted, and clever self stood raised on a pedestal, topped with a crown of praise. Her unruly remarks had always crawled under his skin like ants as they scurried around, looking for the crumbs of anger to rankle upon. They’d steadily sneer in each other’s faces as the bickering commenced, causing them to spit fire as they scorched every word. Little did he know, he’d come to enjoy the bittersweet taste of her fiery words as her face grew to be an ardent ball of fury — he’d quaff up every word as though he were starved, heeding to the passionate tremor in her voice. 

A shuffling sound upon the tiled floor came at close proximity as the ringing in his ears grew. The surroundings became blurred as a prickling static coated his line of sight, blinding him from the external world. He felt his body transform into a limp shell as it collapsed on the hard, cool surface and a great crack repeated against the walls. A high-pitch shriek pierced through his muffled auditory perception and it verbalised as though the source were experiencing an indescribable amount of distress. 

Finally, he felt as though the cage of his internal misery broke free until he looked down onto the grotesque scene as it unfolded at a sluggish speed. A girl with unkempt locks had two tear-stained cheeks and they glistened with the small rays of the sun, almost as though the beams were comforting her as it brushed against her creases of agony. A boy with hair as pale as the moon laid lifeless in a puddle of blood as his once grieved expression faded into a calm and free one, contrasting from the other in an almost artistic display. He felt one final shove as the words escape past the barely soul-filled boy’s lips: “Live your life and don’t wait for me, Granger. You deserve more than a story full of sorrow.” 

His eyes grew bare and his own story had ended with a brisk brush of a dust-filled breeze — his last words containing the advice he was too afraid to accept as he steered his fate towards his final demise, causing the events which had formerly unfolded. The pages of his book clasped closed and Hermione, the girl who once devoted herself to read every page, stuffed it in a safe place, somewhere inside her heart where there would always be room for the infamously known boy and once cruel pureblood heir Draco Malfoy. 


End file.
